


Cold Passion

by TonyJC



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyJC/pseuds/TonyJC
Summary: With the destruction of Castle Volkihar, a quiet tension grows between the Dragonborn and one of the Daughters of Coldharbour.





	1. Unto the Void

The valley was dark and gray, shadowed by the peaks and rocky foothills of the Reach as the sun set towards the west, and the sky's blue slowly turned to a bloody red. They followed the stream and the narrow rocky valley towards the south-east, where they would journey through the remainder of the Reach and reach the ancient forests of Falkreath, and then towards the highlands of the Rift where the fort of Dawnguard lay waiting for their arrival. But until then, their journey through the mountains and valleys would occupy their minds and eyes for the days to come, as they were traveling off of the Imperial roads and instead coursing through goat tracks and valleys seemingly devoid of life, like the one they were in right now.

It was perhaps for the best, Arvas thought, to keep themselves occupied and silent. Serana, hidden underneath a dark cloak and mounted on her own pale horse, rode ahead of him -- more of her own volition than serving as a vanguard. She had become solemn and distant ever since Dawnguard had seized and razed Castle Volkihar, and her father along with his followers had been slain and put to the torch along with her home. She had agreed to this, of course, and had helped them in their breakthrough, but it was as clear as day that she was suffering from it.

All those months ago she had confided him with her tale of her life. How she became a vampire and the prize their family had to pay for it in their service to one of the most vile Daedric Princes. And yet, despite this, she had loved her family, and became heartbroken when her father had been driven mad by the prophecy. Arvas was sure she would have taken any opportunity to make her father see reason, but alas, he had refused to do so.

Lord Volkihar's blood still stained his silvered ax, and although Arvas wasn't certain, he was sure to think that Serana resented him. Maybe even loathed him. One would argue that it was she that had decided to lead them against her father's forces, and proclaim to Arvas and the Dawnguard itself that he was to be stopped at any cost, but it was her memories of the past that are filling her with pain and longing. Serana had said that she remembered when her parents had not been mortal enemies, and she had wished to see those times back. But the man had been too far gone, and in the end Arvas himself had been the one to fell the vampiric lord.

Maybe, in the end, it couldn't be helped. Once their journey was finished and they reached the fort to decide what was to be done with the remaining vampire threat, they would part ways and never see each other again. Their quest was complete, and the distance she was now maintaining could be prove of that, as if their friendship before had never existed. It was a callous way of thinking, but years spent in leading the Empire's legionaries have made him familiar with it. After all, he himself had practiced it. Get to know your men, but remain aloof so that your decisions aren't hampered by the prospect of losing someone you might consider a friend.

But he knew her. Her story, her fears, her longings, and her kindness. Was she feeling remorse? Did she regret leading their forces to the castle? Or was she just mourning the loss of her father? These were the questions that had plagued him ever since they had set out from the frozen coast of Haafingar and was met with her silence and distance. It was exactly the way he had treated her when they had first met all those months ago, and now it bothered him to the bone. It felt wrong seeing her in this state, and that wrongness felt as if there was a pit on his chest that had fallen to his stomach. Many times he had thought to speak of this issue, but always reined himself in at the last moment, for he was not sure if he even had the right to speak of the past when he himself had killed it.

Nonetheless, maybe... this night, he would force the issue. And that moment was coming too soon for his liking.

Serana's form on her horse shifted, a sleeved arm lifting to reveal a claw-like gloved hand, pointing towards the valley's flanks. He followed it, seeing a sharp rise of the mountain that revealed a gaping dark maw at its base, leaking a creek that flowed downwards to them and the river. Shelter, flowing water, and danger possibly waiting within... It was far better than any other choice they had come across on their journey through this desolate region of Skyrim. Arvas turned to her, meeting her gaze that shined of gold and red under the shadow of the cloak, and nodded, to which she turned and he began to follow the trotting pace of the mare.

A cave was a good place to rest for the night, seeing as the hills and valleys of the Reach were sporadically populated by clans of the Forsworn. Outside of Imperial roads, they were constantly at risk of being encountered by patrols or parties of hunter-gatherers, and the both of them often sought to find shelter at nightfall. The cave they were approaching was one of those, and if it did not have another entrance, then it would be far more defensible than the other times they have had to rest in open ground, out in the cold and waiting to be drenched in the dew of the morning. In fact, Arvas knew that Serana absolutely loathed caves, and now, he could not think without a tinge of humor that she preferred one over the peaks, rocks, and goat feces of the Reach.

As usual of this particular journey, Serana was first, dismounting from her courser and, under the shadow of the mountain, began to strip herself of her cloak. Vampires of the Volkihar clan dressed in a rather peculiar fashion, a maroon blouse held tightly to her body by a black leathern bodice, claw-like gauntlets with their steel nails, dark trousers with a set of knee-high boots made for travel, and a collar of iron that had been shaped into a bestial visage of a creature, with incredibly sharp features and serrated teeth. It looked cumbersome and heavy, but she, along with the rest of her attire, carried it with grace and almost indifference to it, extracting a slim dagger from her belt and testing its sharpness with the tip of a finger.

Arvas nodded towards the cave, "Trouble?"

"Some." She answered, nose curled at the cave's entrance. "Falmer, about four of them. Stay with the horses while I deal with them."

Arvas turned, and raised an eyebrow at her. It was the first time he'd heard her voice in days. "Stay? Two is better than one."

"That was not a suggestion." She answered, regarding him with a frown, "I don't trust that our horses will be here when we return. This might give them a fright and bolt away."

Arvas grunted, looking once more into the mountain's entrance as he pondered her words, still hesitant to leave her to her own devices, but he knew that it was foolish, even as she would face foes like the Falmer. The Reach was home to them, twisted beings that reside in caves and caverns, hunt with poisonous swords and arrows, and were as cruel as they were creative with their traps. In dark and confined places like these, their natural killing ground, they thrived... But Arvas knew that they would be no match for a pure-blooded vampire.

Arvas sighed, turning to let her loose upon the miserable creatures in the darkness when he found himself looking at her disappearing figure on the cave's maw, treading lightly as her steps gave off nothing but the smallest of crunches on dirt and gravel. He frowned at her, even if he would have given his blessing in doing so, but the precedence of it... He shook his head, leading his horse to Serana's and grabbing its reins alongside their own spare horse so as to prepare for what was to come.

It would only be some moments later when there came the echoes of growls and snarls from the cave, startling the horses and almost prompting them to bolt had Arvas not been holding on tightly to the reins. Then came the sounds of her sorcery, mostly blasts and snaps, followed by howls and gurgles. With the proximity of the death throes, Arvas could only guess that they were waiting near the entrance to see if anything dared to find shelter in the cave, and then ambush them to kill and feast on their corpses. As much as he thought of them as pitiful by their history, their new nature in the world made them at best, vile and despicable.

Serana reemerged from the cave's entrance, with her raven hair that reached to the shoulders disheveled, but without a scratch on her pale skin. She nodded towards the cave's void, and Arvas dismounted to lead all three horses inside of it, despite their whines of protest.

"Are you certain that this cave is clear?" he asked as he struggled with the anchored horses, turning to meet Serana's brightly amber eyes, frowning at him.

"I'm not sensing other living beings other than you and the horses." she answered, almost defensively before stepping forward and yanking the reins away from him. "It's the corpses. Throw them out while I tend to the horses and the camp."

Arvas grunted, watching as Serana's inhuman strength forced the horses to cede their fight despite their continued whines as they treaded close to the remains of the creatures, and it was this that made him speak out. "Serana." he called towards the retreating vampire, "We need to talk."

She stopped, looking behind her to stare at Arvas with a solemn face. "After the camp is set." she said, her tone more softer and serene than before, before she turned back at the task at hand, and dragged the trio of horses deeper into the cave.

Arvas blew the air out of his lungs, still perplexed about her mood and sudden authority. Although he would have liked to question her on what happened in the castle, maybe even pressure her to speak, daylight was all but gone now, and the stench of the dead Falmer was beginning to overpower his senses. With a shake of his head, he waited with a hand over his mouth as his eyes adjusted to the cave's darkness, and then set out to drag the small and frail corpses, impaled with shards of now-melting ice and burned to a crisp in some places. If they were to let them stay, then they would surely be smothered by their miasma, no matter how deeply the cave went. And as he did this, grabbing thin and sinewy arms and legs, Arvas wondered if there could be peace between him and the vampire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one... took a while, and it's entirely my fault. I don't want to get to specifics, so all I'll say is that a lot of personal shit happened. Anyway, here's the rest that's been sitting in my hard drive for half a year because it was missing like a paragraph that connected one topic to another.

Weariness had at last found him as he stared at the small mound of pale corpses, having dragged and piled all six, not four as Serana had claimed before, of the Falmer bodies out of the cave and onto the encroaching darkness of the valley. The stars had begun to show themselves, along with the bright moons that now occupied the skies above him, and although it was a beautiful, albeit common sight, his body had begun to weigh him down, and his eyes threatened to close for far longer intervals with each blink. After a long day of riding through the Reach, he felt giddy in not sleeping under the sky, along with ridding himself of the Falmer stink he had caught from the bodies.

With it in mind, Arvas turned to enter the cave, following the creek as the passage began to slant upwards and was forced to once more let his eyes grow accustomed to the deep darkness, but as he went deeper and deeper, a sense of foreboding began to permeate him. It was strange, as their camp was usually set near a cave's entrance for fear of finding a Falmers' den. For Serana, someone who detested caves, to go further into one? Something was amiss, and Arvas could feel it in his gut as he at last found an end to the passage, and found the creek's source.

It was not what he had expected. Where the narrow cave passage suddenly ended, he found himself standing in a grand chamber, with a pool of pitch black water at its center and its walls crawling with moss and lichen. The ceiling rose and arched at several yards, with only a single other entrance to the spacious chamber being far up above them and revealing part of the night sky. Dimly lit by fire, he followed the source of light to a campfire near the walls of the chamber, where he found Serana and the horses encamped. He felt apprehensive then, looking at the vampire as she stoked the burning firewood and looked downcast to something on her lap, but there would be no retreat from this... issue, between them.

Arvas grunted at that thought, but he was forced to squash any lingering resistance left in his mind to preserve the stalemate between them. He forced himself to approach the camp, noting that she had forgone her gauntlets and bodice, the absence of the latter being a rare sight for himself. This was certainly an odd occasion, out on the farthest reaches of civilization and possibly close to danger, but certainly...

He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when his eyes found the axe he had used to kill Lord Harkon, resting on her lap with the dried blood still on its broad blade. His mind was blank, every word he had conjured up to use shriveling and dying as his eyes swept up to find Serana's gaze on him, her face strangely calm and betraying no emotion.

"I suppose you will want to talk?" she asked, steady and measured enough to make him feel cold footed, but he relented. He took a deep breath, eyes once more fixating themselves on the axe, and the pale hand that pressed itself on to the blade.

"Aye, that we do." He answered, returning his gaze back to the vampire to find her other hand gesturing towards the other side of the campfire, to which he nodded, and closed the remaining distance from them. But even as he neared and sat with the fire between them, he felt cautious of her, seeing the facade that was her current emotionless expression. He wasn't sure what sort of territory he was about to tread on, but there seemed to be no other way to break the subject of her father's death and its significance to her. What more better point of focus for the conversation than the weapon he had used to kill the man that fathered her? Even that did not bring any humor to him.

The silence had begun to drag, moments spent and wasted as Serana looked downwards at the axe and he sat without any fare nor word, and when it became unbearable to him, he spoke, "I-" he almost hesitated, "I wanted to speak of your feelings on... our victory." She looked up, and already could he feel his heart begin to hammer. This was not his territory, "You have been... extremely quiet, recently." Even as he spoke those words did he already feel them to not be the right ones, but they were loose, and Serana's eyes had strayed to a point below his eyes, frowning.

"That," she grimaced, "is something difficult to explain." She sighed, rubbing her forehead, "And perhaps that is the reason as to why I kept to myself as of late. I keep pondering and wondering whether I..."

Arvas kept his silence as she trailed off, intrigued at the headway he found himself in and the interest Serana had placed in it. Perhaps she had been looking forward to this? He could only wonder, as her eyes once more found his own, "Tell me, Arvas," she continued, "how would you feel if your duty to your empire was grievously neglected? That you would even go so far so as to not do it altogether?"

It was Arvas's turn to frown, looking away as he pondered on his own answer, but his thoughts strayed to the woman in front of him. Duty... That line of questioning from her could mean many things, but one stood out the most. He turned back to her, and spoke, "The prophecy... Serana, do you seriously think that its completion was your duty?"

She frowned, "You did not answer my question."

"I don't have to." he answered, perhaps more brusque than needed, but it was simply unfathomable to think of. He leaned forward, "Duty..." he then faltered, grunting as he sought to find the words, and then chuckled at the irony when he found it to be a question, but its nature quickly sobered him. "Would you have followed your father? To the end? Even if it meant your own death?"

Serana had looked away when he finished, frowning at something else as she seemed to ponder his own question. She looked downwards then, and with a sigh, lifted the ax with both hands. "To be completely honest," Serana began, her voice low as she regarded the blade, "I would have."

Arvas kept his stare, knowing full well her implication, but also its futility in the present. There was only one other question for this, "Then why didn't you?"

Serana once more stayed silent, regarding the blade of the axe with a cool stare, before settling it aside on the damp rocks beside her. Her eyes still kept themselves away from him as she curled her legs to her chest, and wrapped her arms tightly around them. Right then, she looked small and meek, as if she couldn't break your neck with a simple and weak flick of her wrist. It was what made it so surreal to watch her in that state, a pure-blooded vampire retreating into herself. Was it deliberation? Hesitance? Or perhaps unwillingness? He guessed and guessed like never before, trying to find the reason to her silence at his question.

Moments passed before she looked up from her knees, meeting his eyes as she at last spoke, "For all my life, I have done as my father and mother bid, not because it was expected of me, but because I wanted to... have their approval. When my father sacrificed the peasantry for the Prince, I did not object. When he began to offer the flesh of men during his banquets, I ate to please him." She stopped momentarily, breathing deeply, "When my mother prepared me for the arrival of our Prince, I steeled myself so that I would not show any fear. And when his gift was bestowed onto me, I killed to protect our court. Everything I have ever done and endured was for them, because I loved them and trusted them to know what was best for me. And in that moment, when you held this axe against my father, I wanted to stop you. Heed my father's words to trust him once more and bring glory to our kind... But I couldn't."

She had closed her eyes, breathing deeply and yet with a tinge of tremor in it. "It brings me shame, to think back on it. The times where I was so gullible. _Child_ , they called me. _My sweet girl_... They might as well have called me _pawn_."

Arvas cocked his head, "Valerica-"

"Never told me what she planned." Serana cut in, shaking her head. "You know this yourself. We had to seek her to find why my father wanted the Elder Scrolls in the first place. All she wanted of me, was to trust her, and I slept through thousands of years for doing so. It's... typical _, of them. Keep me quiet and demure as they both schemed and plotted against one another, and when they needed the upper hand, they just... used me. Like some damned instrument. And my father was the worst in that regard, while my mother..." she paused for a moment, before she shook her head as she sighed, pained as it seemed to be, "It was wishful thinking on my part to think that she would never stoop so low, but she did. It's why all of this happened, Arvas. It's why I'm here. It is why my father lies dead and the Prophecy never came to be. She won in the end."_

Arvas allowed a period of silence between them, thinking of her words as he sought an appropriate rebuttal of what she had just said, but the more he thought of it, the more her logic began to form within him. It was what her mother wanted, and there would be no doubt that she would seize control of the remainders of the Volkihar castle and their household... but did it matter?

"And so what if she won?" Arvas found himself asking, drawing a frown from Serana, "It's only a coincidence that she sought the same goal as we did, and she would keep what remains of your clan in hiding. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"It's not that simple." Serana shook her head, "But I wish it was."

"Your duty." Arvas remarked, to which she nodded.

"My duty." She repeated, looking away once more. "I wish things had gone differently. All the possibilities to explore for the better or worse," she snorted, "if only I had that power."

Arvas nodded, "That we all do, but we must work without it." Serana turned to him then with a raised eyebrow.

"How?" she asked, shaking her head, "All I can think of is... how to change it all. What could I have done better?"

"You can't." Arvas said, sighing as her face turned into a frown. "What's done is done. There's nothing else to do but learn from the past and move on. Look up to the future."

"And what is my future?" she asked, eyes now downcast onto her legs, "I'm confident that I am now seen as a traitor to my kind." She huffed in what seemed to be bitter mirth, "Maybe even my Prince will bring his vengeance upon me. After all, this Prophecy would have greatly increased his power in Nirn."

Arvas shook his head, "He cannot, unless you summon him for that purpose."

She once more looked up to him, frowning at first before it turned into what seemed like surprise, "The Crisis, wasn't it? Your Emperor?"

He nodded, "Our covenant with Akatosh is eternal now, but as much as it is blasphemous to say, he does not matter right now." He leaned forward, "What will you do after we reach Fort Dawnguard and confer with Isran? What will you do? Where will you go?"

Serana's eyes strayed downwards, pondering, by the looks of it. The only thoughts he could muster brought him discomfort, as was sure that they were to part, never to see each other again. After all, he needed to return to General Tullius, and surely afterwards they would travel south to rejoin the emperor after peace in Skyrim had been secured, but what of her? He had never been concerned for someone in this way, but for all intents and purposes, she had become his friend. He had begun to enjoy their conversations and her own presence, even if he had feared for his life during the first week of their quest. And to part without her... It seemed unnatural.

"No repercussions..." he heard her mutter, followed by a click. Arvas looked up to find Serana with the both of her hands at her nape, fiddling as click turned to clack, and the iron collar that enclosed her neck came loose at its half. He frowned at the sight of it, bewildered at her sudden act when she stood from her rocky seat and launched it towards the pool, where it splashed into its dark depths.

Arvas stared at the ripples in awe, before turning back to find Serana scowling at the waters beyond. "That collar-"

"Bound me to Molag Bal." She turned to him, her expression softening, "But no more. I... I'm free of them all, and yet..." she grimaced, still pondering as it seemed, but Arvas let her bide her time. She resumed her seat by the campfire, glancing at the pool as she brought a hand to caress her neck, and then she cocked her head.

_Clack!_

She grunted, tightly closing her eyes and pressing her lips together as her shoulders hunched as if she had been struck. He had perked up at the sudden reaction, half-way out of his seat when she raised a hand towards him.

"Wait." She said, opening an eye to stare at him, "Let me deal with this."

Hesitant, he returned to his seat when she continued to cock her head, followed by a series of snaps that seemed to emanate from her neck. Arvas winced in discomfort, all the while Serana gasped and exhaled, biting her lip as she tilted her head in every single direction, from her shoulders, to her chest and then her back. He was no stranger to popping tendons, but the ones he was hearing were loud, and almost violent in the way they sounded, as if she was about to tear her own neck apart by the simple action of moving her head about. After some more moments of this, however, they stopped, and Serana stilled as she opened her eyes, fixing them onto Arvas's before smiling, "That... was fantastic."

He huffed, warding off a chill as he brought a hand to caress his own neck, "Aye, it must have. From here it sounded as if your spine was being torn apart."

She chuckled, thankfully, easing some of the tension within him that had been born out of their previous topics. And even though he had been intrigued by where their conversation had been taken, he decided to let it rest for now. After the breakthroughs of today, he could content himself with leaving Serana to her devices for the night, even if he had found himself curious over where her thoughts were on this freedom she had just contemplated. Perhaps it was best if he left her for the time being, to see if those thoughts of hers would soon manifest into something fruitful for her life. For sure, he would have loathed to ever think of such a thing in the past, and for that he was glad to have broken through, for she had become his friend, and that was something that seemed to be seldom in his own life. 

With it in mind, he turned away from her, sighing as he rubbed at his eyes and face, and then he looked on towards the pool. The waters would surely be cold, but not stagnant, and now that he cared to smell himself, he realized that he stank of sweat and other foul odors from the days of travel. Arvas had to stifle the groan, fighting against his own exhaustion and the weight of his armor as he stood and caught the vampire's attention.

"I suppose there aren't any creatures dwelling in there?" he asked with a smile, nodding towards the waters.

Serana huffed, shaking her head. "I was wondering when you would ask about it. Go on, I won't stop you or your stench." And then she smiled, "At the very least the Falmer smelled worse than you do."

He snorted, pursing his lips at her stinging words, "I'm flattered, but now I know why you kept your distance."

She flicked her hand at him, smiling as she covered her mouth with the other, "Go, please! Before you choke me will you?"

Arvas chuckled, but even as he knew it was a jest, he still felt self-conscious of it, and with a nod, he turned to part away from the campfire and step over to his belongings. The horses, tied and without their saddles, seemed to be fast asleep, and his own cot had been laid out on the ground near to the fire. He frowned at that, looking over to his own horse to confirm that yes, she had laid out his own cot on the ground. Hers was still on her horse, as she seldom used it due to her lack of necessity for sleep, which meant that she had gone out of her way to lay it on the ground for him.

He looked behind him as he began to work on the straps and belts of his armor, seeing Serana still sitting by the campfire and with her back to him. He would thank her for that kindness, but there was another task that had taken priority, despite his body's protest for rest.

With a sigh and stretch, he set to work on the straps and belts of his armor, loosening his brigandine vest and lifting it out of his body to rest on his saddle. His tunic was next, followed by his boots and trousers, until he felt the cold air on every inch of his skin. He turned, finding the vampire's back as she still sat there with her head to the campfire, giving him the chance to move towards the lip of the pool, and plunge into the surely-frigid waters.

Whatever weariness and drowsiness he had harbored before were quickly swept away when he emerged from the dark depths of the pool, sighing and shivering, but relishing it. Standing and finding purchase on the rocky and uneven ground, Arvas ran his hands through his coppery hair, short but greasy, and began to rub his arms and hands to get rid of the dust and grime he had accumulated during their travels. The Mer and the other human races of Tamriel would surely freeze and suffer in such waters, but to a Nord it was but a chilled bath, one where one could leisurely stay without fear of suffering from a torpor.

He allowed himself to relax, and with the water only reaching down to his lower ribs, he submerged again and again to clean his face and hair, when a splash made him whirl about. He found the small waves of disturbed water, emanating close to where their camp stood, and it was then that he saw the vacant campfire and the pile of folded garments beside it. Panic was attempting to seize him, his heart once more beginning to beat faster and faster when he saw two glowing orbs in the dark water, brief in their presence before disappearing altogether.

She broke the water's surface a moment later with a breath of air, her dark hair loose to fall on her face and her alabaster skin gleaming by the fire's light, almost an ashen gray by the cave's darkness. His inspection would have stopped there, but his eyes roamed for a split-second, taking in her exposed chest with their round breasts, filled and firm with small dark teats budding from the flesh. He shut his eyes closed, forcing himself to look away and instead set to continue on working to clean himself. He mentally cursed Serana for startling him, his arms working quick down his arms and abdominals when he felt her coming near him.

Arvas turned, cautious of letting his eyes roam again, but they became fixated on her glowing eyes, staring intently at him. He froze in his movements, without a clue or thought in what to do as she neared and stopped but some feet away from him and offered a smile. The quip that sprung on his mind was perhaps the only thing he could ever offer in this situation, "I see my warning was heeded."

Her small smile only grew wider, showing her prominent fangs that only added to the allure she possessed and haunted him with in certain dreams. She carried, after all, an unnatural beauty, and although he would not openly say it, his own body had a way of expressing it. With a beating heart, he felt himself engorge and stiffen under the water, nervous of her intent, but it seemed that she felt no concern for it as she began to close the distance. He stood his ground with quick and shallow breaths, muscles coiled for something akin to violence.

But in the end, he only shivered when he felt her hands then, cold like ice as they grabbed on to his arms and pulled them forward to land on her hips. There was no warmness, just cool flesh that might belong to a corpse, but the woman that was now pressing herself onto him and encircling her arms about his nape was anything but. The only thing Arvas could focus on was her eyes, with their sun-like pupils that seemed to be burning themselves onto his vision. It was a surreal experience to behold: cold flesh in his grip, cool breaths that washed his face with her every breath, and the soft, chilly red lips that met his own.

He closed his eyes, feeling an intense warmness spin about inside his chest as they kissed. He brought his hands upwards and about her narrow waist, trapping her in a tight embrace that further flattened herself against him, and imprisoning his erection between their bodies. The exchange, however, had turned rough, less chaste as their meshing turned to lip sucking on her part that seemed frantic; desperate. He indulged where he could, feeling outpaced and outmatched by her ministrations, her hands roaming down his body and grazing his skin with sharp nails that left him groaning in pain. It came to the point that he had brought a hand to her neck to pry her lips away from his, just to take some desperate mouthfuls of breaths to steady himself.

The pause gave him the opportunity to gather his thoughts as he met Serana's intense gaze, but then she started to move up and down, and he groaned as he felt his member rub against the both of their bodies. "Serana..." Arvas bit his lip, the question he so yearned to ask at the tip of his tongue... but by Akatosh had it been years since he had surrounded himself with the warm body of a woman, and this one was so different. No whore from the brothels in the Imperial City made him feel as he did so now, his heart exploding in warmness, his head heady and hazy, his desire for her overwhelming any other want...

His hands were not his own, the one in her throat lowering to find her chest, while the other slid down as it caressed her side, sweeping downward and sinking below the water. With their eyes locked, a glowing amber against his own green, he felt her slim waist that led to her wide hips, and a shapely, supple rear. Slender and yet thick in the right places, her form seemed so perfect... He knew he was letting his lust guide his actions, but it was with defeat that he realized that there was nothing he could do to resist it. Her rubbing herself against him, kissing his neck and running her hands up and down his chest and gut, became unbearable, and in the end, he had no choice. His hand returned from her chest to her throat, and when she whined at the interruption, she would later moan when he met her lips once more.

He had meant to preserve the tenderness and softness, but their kisses had grown hungrier by the moment, and when he felt her hand grasp his member, he sighed into her mouth, squeezing one of her cheeks in response. She tugged him while he fondled, his other hand leaving to aid the other while Serana gripped his hair and pressed his face onto hers. He mimicked her, opening his mouth and accepting her tongue as he invaded hers, and he had become so drunk that it came as a surprise when she pulled herself away from him, disentangling herself and grabbing his arm to pull him away. Bewildered and painfully aroused, he followed her stiffly as they sloshed through the chest-high water, moving towards the edge of the pool where their camp stood.

He could not even dare to ask himself if he had fallen asleep much sooner than what he planned. Real or not, this was something too good to give up, and he continued on after her as she lifted herself up from the pool, extending a hand that Arvas took to help himself out of the water. With her unnatural strength, she practically dragged him past the campfire and towards his sole cot, where she turned, and knelt to fall onto her back, bringing him down with her. There was a pause then, a moment as he held himself by the elbows and she spread her legs, that he wanted to use to speak. Say something, anything, but like all the other attempts in that afternoon, his words left him, and without any other thought, he leaned back down to kiss her as he positioned himself, and parted her wet, cool folds with the head of his member. He pushed, slowly as he sunk himself in as she gasped.

The thrust had been slow and deep, her insides cold and yet so delightful to him as he retreated from the tightness and drove himself inside again. All the while, he looked down unto her, gasping and uttering soft moans as he increased his rhythm and the slaps of their coupling began to resonate throughout the cave. He let some of his weight fall unto her, keeping her in place as he imitated her earlier ministration and began to kiss her neck, all the while he felt her legs lock onto his swinging hips and her arms wrapped around his neck for a hand to roam through his hair.

But this would not last for long as he felt this pressure, building and accumulating inside of him, turning to swell the pacing while shortening deepness of his thrusts. He followed it, heaving in air as her moans turned high and shrill, turning this pressure into such a small pinprick in his groin when the release suddenly came, and he groaned. Caught off guard and yet still seeking that pleasure, he pressed himself deep into her innards, spending himself as the woman below him somehow tightened even more and gave a high, but brief scream. It had been a small moment of pure joy, lasting perhaps a second or two before the cloud in his mind dissipated, and he found himself without any ounce of vigor left in him.

He felt his arm buckle under his weight as he gasped in breaths, feeling far more weary than before as he struggled to not let his full weight land on top of Serana. He looked down on her, finding her with her eyes closed as she took deep but even breaths, and then they opened, the familiar glow that had enraptured him not long before, staring back at him to meet his own. Two suns, two blood moons, two fires that neared once more as she pressed her lips into his, before she disentangled her legs from his lips and his spent member was released with a squelch. He shivered as her hands kept his head in place, the kiss long and deep, enough to bruise and yet chaste enough without the use of tongue.

It would be moments before she let herself fall back onto the cot, breaking the kiss as she moved aside and pulled Arvas down to rest on it. Before he could do so much as whine at her choice, she positioned herself to lie on top of him, a soft, cold weight pressing down on him that that gave him a strange amount of comfort, more so when she rested her head on his chest. Any remaining vigor left him then, when his eyes closed and refused to open again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I didn't make this clear. The reason as to why Serana's flesh is cold is because I'm going with some lore that said that the Nordic clan of vampires on Skyrim could phase through ice, and I wanted to reflect that.


End file.
